The Reavers
by ConnArtist
Summary: *FINISHED!* Trunks takes his training to a new level, and he THINKS that he has solved the major problem in his life. That is, until a new menace threatens his loved ones. Please R & R!
1. Weakness

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or any of it characters, and I am not making money off this story, so it would be totally useless to try and sue me!  
  
**********  
Hey folks! I just wanted to say that I hope you enjoy this story. I have written fan fiction before for Gargoyles, but never for Dragonball Z, so if anyone has any suggestions for me, I will gladly take them. Contructive criticism is a good thing! The character Trunks fascinates me, so this story really focuses on him. He won't be a saint though...Trunks is gonna suffer for his goals, beleive me! This isn't a love story either....I'm going for action here, if I can. It may start out a little slow at first, but don't worry, things WILL pick up! (P.S. I know there is a lot of cussing....but Trunks is a teenager, and I'm going for realism here.)  
  
*****  
Chapter 1 - Weakness  
  
The heat surrounded him, burning, tearing at his flesh, and he could not move. He could not move one fucking bit. It hurt so much, and still his body refused to follow his frantic commands.   
  
"You fool!" Vegeta bellowed, "Are you just going to stand there while I blast you?"  
  
Trunks could not answer - every part of his body was overcome, even his vocal cords. The energy increased; Trunks wondered why he was still standing.  
  
'Am I still standing?' He thought, 'Yeah, I'm still standing. I'm too helpless to even collapse in defeat.'  
  
"That does it boy!" Vegeta screamed at Trunks, "If you are not going to defend yourself, I am not going to train you! It's a complete waste of my time!"  
  
Trunks could only stare straight ahead as his father stomped from the Gravity Room. He remained that way for a few minutes, painfully aware of his vulnerability. Finally, mercilessly, his muscles came back to life, spasming violently as his synapses fought to regain control.  
  
Trunks sank to the floor; his knees, which had so valiantly held him upright against his father's ki blast, could not contend with Trunks' convulsing body.   
  
Trunks lay curled up in a ball for an entire hour. He had lost control over his body, and it was maddening. He knew his father had not meant to hurt him. Trunks should have been able to dodge that blast - or at least counter it.  
  
'Is this where fifteen years of training has taken me?' Trunks thought, 'One fucking ki blast and I'm reduced to a gibbering, twitching maggot?'  
  
He sighed and looked at his right hand. He had to get his control back. As he stared at it, he could feel a warmth slowly returning. It was comforting - he cleched his fist to test his muscles. To his relief, his hand did what it was supposed to do. At least he had control of something.  
  
It did not take long for the rest of Trunks' body to get straightened out. He was relieved, but it would take much longer to get over his embarassment. He knew how stupid he had looked in front of his father - Trunks' Saiyan pride had been deeply wounded.  
  
***  
  
The bookcase was a pile of splinters before Bulma could say a word to her enraged husband. She stared at him in shock, but gathered her wits as he headed for the coffee table.  
  
"Vegeta! Stop that!"  
"Shut up woman!" He raised his fist to smash the table, but Bulma jumped in front of him.  
  
"Get out of my way!"  
"No! I will not let you destroy this house!"  
"I will do as I please, woman!"  
"Not when it comes to our home, you won't!" Bulma took a deep breath, "Why you are so angry?"  
  
Vegeta turned away from Bulma and crossed his arms. She was relieved that he was done smashing her house, but she could see that he was still tense with pent-up rage. Sighing, Bulma began to massage his shoulders. She knew she might not find out why he was mad, but she could at least make him feel a little better.  
  
Vegeta sighed and relaxed a bit. He was still furious about his son's foolishness, but Bulma always knew how to lighten his mood.  
  
"I needed that," he said gratefully.  
"I could tell - Are you hungry?"  
"Yes. My training with Trunks took more out of me than it should have." Vegeta spat out his last few words and stalked into the kitchen.  
  
'So, Trunks has something to do with this,' Bulma thought, 'I wonder if he's ok...'  
  
"Vegeta," Bulma said, following her husband, "Did you hurt Trunks?"  
  
Vegeta just grunted and took a box of cereal from the cabinet. Bulma sighed as he searched for a bowl. All these years and Vegeta still could not find anything but food in the kitchen.  
  
"Woman! Why do you keep rearranging this place? How am I supposed to find anything?"  
  
Bulma rolled her eyes and got her husband a bowl.  
  
"Ok Vegeta, if you aren't going to tell me why you're angry, at least tell me that you didn't hurt Trunks too badly."  
  
Vegeta growled and concentrated on his cereal. He really did not want to talk about it, but he knew his wife would not leave him alone until he did.  
  
"The boy will be fine. He failed to avoid a ki blast, and he paid for it. Let the boy lick his wounds in peace."  
  
Bulma sat down and poured herself some cereal. She decided that it would be best to take Vegeta's advice about Trunks; she knew how important pride was to Saiyans, and Trunks was no exception.  
  
***  
  
Trunks was still in the Gravity Room. He could control his body now, but he felt very weak. He knew his father was mad at him - he could hear Vegeta's destructive anger all the way across the house. Trunks sighed and stood up. He had failed miserably - he was willing to admit that, but it would never happen again. He had been neglecting his training far too much. His social life had become too important.  
  
'I can't beleive I didn't see this coming,' Trunks thought angrily. 'What did I expect anyway, going out every night to parties and stuff? My priorities need to change.'  
  
Trunks could feel his power swell under this new resolve. He felt better, and he felt like training. He still had one nagging concern, however. His body had never acted that strangely to a ki blast - it was almost as if it was trying to tell him something. But what? Did he just need to train more, push himself further? No, it was something more. Somehow his father's blast had uncovered a weakness.   
  
He was not sure why, but he thought maybe Vegeta had put a little more behind the blast than usual, perhaps to test his son. Trunks could not remember if he had ever been hit by anything that powerful. Perhaps he had when he fought Majin Buu as Gotenks, but with Goten's power helping out, the strange weakness may not have been able to surface.  
  
Trunks was frustrated. How could he be a great warrior if he was paralzed each time a strong energy blast hit him? Was that going to happen EVERY time? How could he train to resist something like that? Trunks plopped down on the Gravity Room floor and put his head in his hands.  
  
'I'm not leaving here until I figure this out,' he thought, 'It's too damned important.'  
  
Trunks was not there long before he got an idea. He knew that he had incredible control over his own ki; he might actually be able to use his power to boost his resistance. The plan was far from perfect, Trunks knew, but at least it was progress. Excited, he jumped up and formed an energy ball between his hands. Stepping back, he left the ball suspended a few feet in front of him. Frowning, he reached forward and flicked it.  
  
"OW!!! Shit...that hurt!" Trunks felt his stomach lurch from the pain.  
  
'Sheesh, I guess that when I hurt this, it hurts me - hmmm...'  
  
Trunks reached forward and flicked the ball again. It still hurt him, but not quite as much. He kept this up for a while, until flicking the energy ball no longer hurt. Then Trunks began punching the ball - now THAT hurt.  
  
Two hours later Trunks emerged from the Gravity Room. He knew he looked like hell, but it had been ages since he had felt so good about himself. His training routine had been drastically altered for the better, and he knew it. The next time his father wanted to spar, Trunks would be ready.   
  
***  
  
-- Well, folks, I hope you liked that! Things should get a little more interesting in the next chapter. I'm not a big fan of exposition, and I think it's time for some action!  
  
P.S. Drop some reviews my way if ya want! I'd like to know how my first DBZ fic is going over! I have more chapters written, and I'll post them soon, but I would like to get some comments on this before I get too far into it. I'm not really sure how I'm going to conclude the story yet, so I'm proceeding with caution. I hate it when people don't finish their fics, and I'm sad to say that I'm guilty of that in my Gargoyles stuff. I'm determined to avoid that here, so help me out if you can! Woo!  
  
-Stacey G. 


	2. Disaster

Chapter 2 - Disaster  
  
  
Vegeta punched the air repeatedly, straining to increase his speed. The level of pressure in the gravity room was exceedingly high - it was even causing him some pain, and he loved it. Vegeta enjoyed every moment of his training sessions; it was the ultimate release for him.  
  
Vegeta quit punching and mopped his brow with his hand. He was not entirely focused - he had not been since he blasted Trunks several weeks ago. The boy still spoke to him - that had not changed at all, but he would not train with him. Vegeta had even lowered himself enough to ASK the boy to spar with him. TELLING Trunks to do anything was like pulling teeth.  
  
The only consolation for Vegeta was that Trunks WAS training, but he was doing it on his own. He did not want anyone to see him when he was working out - he would quit whatever he was doing every time Vegeta walked into the Gravity Room. It was infuriating. His son obviously had a problem with his technique; that much was proven when he got blasted, but he would not let his father help him. Vegeta doubted it had anything to do with what he said to Trunks that day - he had said things like that before and it had not fazed his son.  
  
Vegeta growled and started punching invisible opponents. He was tired of thinking about the whole situation - it was time to focus on his own training for a change. If Trunks really did have a problem, he would work it out.  
  
***  
  
'Jeez, that one hurt a lot...'  
  
Trunks looked at his creation and smiled. In just a few short weeks he had gone from beating up a small energy ball to assaulting a pillar of his own ki power. It was agonizing every time he hit it, and he loved it. His pain tolerance had increased ten fold, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he could withstand anything. Sighing, Trunks floated down from the energy pillar and settled to the ground. Happliy, he gazed at the large meadow spread out before him. The gravity room was nice and all, but sometimes he needed a little fresh air.  
  
Trunks lay down in the soft grass and took a deep breath. He grunted as his thoughts turned to his father. He knew that Vegeta was mad at him, and he knew he would have to tell his father about his unique training exercises eventually. He could not keep them from him forever. Trunks wanted to surprise Vegeta, but he felt like he would need years of training before he could make up for his embarassment a few weeks ago.  
  
Trunks stood up and flexed his biceps a few times. Clearing his mind, he charged up to Super Saiyan. As he did this, the ki pillar expanded and glowed. This was going to hurt, and Trunks could hardly wait.  
  
***  
  
"VEGETA!!" A loud blast shook Capsule Corps as Bulma screamed.  
"What??? What is going on?" Vegeta ran from the Gravity Room, trying to find his wife.  
"WOMAN! Where are you??"  
  
The entire house was shaking violently. Vegeta was having a hard time keeping his footing.  
  
"Dammit! WHAT is going on? Trunks! Bulma!"  
"Here, Vegeta! I'm here!"  
  
Vegeta looked to his right and saw his wife climb out from behind the sofa. The house was still shaking, and Vegeta was worried it would come down on their heads.  
  
Vegeta growled and flew over to his wife. Grabbing her around the waist, he headed for the nearest window, but it was too late. With one final heave, the entire Capsule Corps compound crashed down on top of them.  
  
***  
  
Trunks stopped his training; something was wrong, but it was not tangible to him. He dismissed his ki pillar and floated to the ground. Perhaps a little quiet meditation would give him some insight.  
  
It was almost ominous, this strange feeling, and a bit familiar. Trunks closed his eyes and tried to remember the last time he had felt this way. Was it when Majin Buu attacked? Maybe, but this was deeper - way down in the pit of his stomach, gnawing away.  
  
Suddenly, the ground began to shake and a loud bang resounded in the distance.  
  
"What the fuck was that??" Trunks jumped to his feet and looked towards his home, horrified to see a large cloud of smoke rising from that direction.  
  
"MOM! DAD!" Trunks took to the air, but before he could get very far, another explosion resounded from the east. Trunks looked and saw another plume of smoke rising in the distance. Several other concussive explosions followed, each one closer to Trunks than the last. Trunks knew he had to get home - he had to see if his family was ok.  
  
Trunks could still feel his parents - they were alive. Trunks breathed a sigh of relief, but choked on it when he reached the house. All of Capsule Corps was in ruins, and Trunks could feel that his parents were underneath the rubble. Trunks was not sure how his mother had survived such a catastrophe, unless Vegeta had gotten to her before it happened. Trunks could only hope that was the case.  
  
Trunks flew towards the house, but the moment he was close enough to discern separate pieces of rubble, he was knocked away by an energy blast.  
  
"Get BACK Trunks!"  
"Dad! Where are you??" Trunks landed and ran towards the sound of his father's voice. Another blast shot towards him, but Trunks was able to dodge it this time. He looked toward where the blast had come from - Vegeta was surrounded by what was once their living room.  
  
"Dad? Are you ok?"  
"GET AWAY FROM HERE TRUNKS!!!"  
"Dad! What the hell is going on???"  
"Trunks! There is no time! Something is taking over my body...it's already gotten your mother! You must escape!"  
  
Trunks could feel that his father was losing power quickly, and as he looked closer, he could just make out something wrapped around Vegeta's neck.  
  
"Ugh, dad, what is that thing? Is it attacking you?"  
"Yes, and it'll attack you if you get too close! Get out of here NOW!"  
  
Trunks just stared. His mighty father, one of the greatest warriors in the universe, was being sucked dry by a worm. Trunks could not believe it, and he would not let it happen.  
  
"Dad, I'm not leaving - I can help you beat this thing!"  
"NO Trunks! Listen, if you do one thing for me, ever, then get the hell out of here. This fucking parasite is taking over my mind! I..I can't...stop....it..." Vegeta began to scream. Trunks could feel his father's power returning, but his ki felt different; it felt like the weird feeling Trunks had gotten before. At that moment, Trunks knew it was time to leave. If his father could not beat this thing, neither could he. He had to go find the other Z-senshi before it was too late.  
  
**** 


	3. Panic

Chapter 3 - Panic  
  
Goku smiled as he watched his family from the kitchen. It had been a nice afternoon for all of them - lunch, board games, and now some quiet time in front of the TV. He did not get to see Gohan and Videl enough, and Pan was always a joy to have around. Even Goten had behaved - he usually tried to get out of family time, but he seemed particularly interested in beating his father at Monopoly. Goku chuckled. Goten never could resist a chance to compete.  
  
'Yeah, the kids are something else,' Goku thought happily.  
  
"Grampa Goku?" A small voice chimed from the living room.  
"Yes Pan?" Goku smiled and picked up the feisty 7 year old.  
"Can I have a cookie?"  
  
Goku laughed and carried her into the kitchen. A cookie would be a nice thing for both of them.  
  
GOku sat the child down on the counter and began opening cabinets. He never could remember where Chichi kept the cookies.  
  
"Ah..here they are."  
"Grampa...why is the counter shaking?"  
"What Pa-"  
  
Goku was cut off abrubtly by a loud bang. Dropping the cookie jar, he lunged toward Pan and covered her with his body as the roof collapsed on top of them.  
  
***  
  
Piccolo could not breathe; something had him around the neck. He could feel it burrowing into his back, his neck, down into his spine. No matter how hard he pulled, the thing would not relinquish its hold on him.  
  
'What is this monstrosity???' Piccolo staggered over to a nearby pool of water and looked at his attacker. He was horrified by what he saw.  
  
'Great Dende! A Reaver! I must warn everyone...if this...this...BEAST will let me...'  
  
Piccolo closed his eyes against the pain and searched for his power. He still had some left, but it would not last long. Suddenly a loud blast shook the ground. Piccolo spun around and beheld a huge plume of smoke rising in the distance.  
  
'They're attacking! But how? They were wiped out! This is impossible!' Piccolo fell to his knees. The beast was strong; he could feel his hold on reality lessening. It would only be a few minutes before he was consumed. He had to find someone to warn. He tried to climb to his feet, but his knees were too wobbly to support him. His power was diminishing rapidly.  
  
Suddenly Piccolo sensed a strong ki approaching, but he was far too weak to identify its owner.  
  
'If there is any justice in the world,' Piccolo thought with mirth, 'Let this be someone I can trust.'  
  
"Piccolo! Not you too!"  
  
It was Trunks - Piccolo could not beleive it. He seemed to know what was going on - how did he escape? He was a lucky lad, that one.  
  
"Trunks, you must not come near me. I am being attacked by a parasite, a Reaver."  
  
Trunks' eyes flashed with anger. The same thing that had consumed his father now had it's putrid coils on Piccolo.  
  
"Piccolo, what is going on? Those things attacked my family...my dad...he was screaming..."  
  
"This is beyond your understanding Trunks...these....these creatures are far too powerful for any of us." Piccolo was breathing heavily. Trunks noticed that his eyes were clouded. He wondered if Piccolo could even see him.  
  
"You must run Trunks. Get as far away from here as you can. This thing will have me soon, and then I won't be able to stop myself."  
  
"What? What are you talking about? Piccolo, this is crazy! What the FUCK is a Reaver??"   
Piccolo gasped and fell to the ground. It was coming; the beast was already telling him to attack Trunks. It knew about his power; it could feel it flowing from the angry teenager, and it wanted it - Piccolo wanted it. No, he did not, but he could not help himself.  
  
"Trunks!" Piccolo gasped, "You...you must...leave. Hide yourself, and your ki...they....they want it for their own. GO!"  
  
Trunks could not beleive what was happening - First his parents, and now Piccolo. How was he to avoid the same fate? He felt like such a coward, but it was time, once again, to run away. He had no choice.  
  
***  
  
"DADDY! GRAMPA! What's happening?" Pan gazed fearfully at the celing fan teetering over her head. She vaguely remembered Goku grabbing onto her, but she could not see him now. She started to cry.  
  
"Daddy! Where are you?" Pan climbed out from underneath a pile of broken wood and drywall and was astonished to see her grandfather's house in ruin. She was getting really scared; people did not just disappear and leave her behind. Her mom and dad always made sure she was with them. Pan had never been alone before.  
  
Her crying increased as each moment passed. Pan could not beleive that her parents would abandon her, especially when the house had just blown up. She wandered about the yard, crying for her parents, but no one answered. She even looked in the scary shed that Grampa Goku refused to tear down, but they were not hiding in there either.  
  
Then Pan heard a voice calling from the wreckage. It was Goten! Pan was so relieved. She ran back to the house, yelling Goten's name happily. She wished that it was her parents and not annoying Goten, but at least it was someone. She could not find him at first, but then she saw him trying to crawl out from underneath a wall. She ran over to help him, but stopped when she saw him; he had a big worm wrapped around his neck! Pan was disgusted; why would Goten want to have that thing stuck to him anyway? She knew that boys were gross and stupid, but this was rediculous.  
  
"Goten!" She called, not wanting to get too close to him and that worm thing, "What are you doing with that? Where's my dad?" Goten did not answer her. Instead he was rolling around on the ground.  
  
"Goten! Get rid of that thing and help me find my parents!" Pan was getting annoyed; Goten was still ignoring her.  
  
"Pan..." he finally gasped. Pan frowned - was that all he had to say to her? Sighing, she turned around and headed for the shed again. Goten was obviously a lost cause, but maybe if she went back there, someone else would appear in the wreckage.  
  
Pan sat next to the shed for a while, listening to Goten's weird cries as he played with his icky worm. She never had understood Goten; he was always doing weird things. She had other things to worry about anyway; she still had not found her parents, or her grandparents for that matter. It was just not like them to wander off.  
  
Pan jumped as she heard a familiar voice.  
"Goten! Fight it! Don't let it take you!" It was Trunks! She had not seen him in ages. Pan ran out to greet him, but was stopped short when a large hand closed around her neck. 


	4. Exile

Chapter 4 - Exile  
  
Pan gasped for air; whoever had her was really strong. She knew she was powerful for her age, but there was no escape. She started to cry again; if her daddy was here she would be safe -   
  
"Gohan! Put her down! That's your daughter, dammit!" Pan was astonished to see Trunks running at them. He was powered up to Super Saiyan, and he looked furious. Pan was really scared. Usually when they went Super Saiyan, it was pretty serious. She was also puzzled; did Trunks just say Gohan?  
  
"Now, why would I want to put this brat down?"  
  
Pan gasped. The voice was her father's - he was the one hurting her!   
  
"Gohan, this is serious," Trunks' eyes were wide, "She's just a little girl. You can't let yourself be controlled like this!"  
  
"I will do as I please, idiot," Gohan spat at Trunks, "This child is nothing but a cancer to my plans. She must die!"  
  
"Daddy! Why are you doing this?" Pan screamed.  
"Shut up brat!" Gohan tightened his grip and Pan gasped.  
  
Trunks lunged at Pan and Gohan, but before he could reach them, a searing pain began in his neck. He could feel a slimy body tring to wind itself around his neck. Gasping, he reached up and grabbed the thing. He pulled at the beast, and his nerves screamed in protest and agony. The more he tugged, the more it hurt. Gohan was laughing, Pan was screaming.   
  
Trunks closed his eyes and concentrated on the pain, remembering his training. He liked pain - he enjoyed it. With all his might, Trunks pulled on the parasitic Reaver, willing it to release its grip. The creature shrieked, sending even more pain through Trunks' body. He smiled; the blasted thing WOULD let go.  
  
He dug his fingernails into the Reaver's slimy skin, and with every ounce of his might, yanked the throbbing body off of him. The creature had inserted many circular probes into Trunks' neck and face, and as the creature was forced from his body, much of his flesh went as well. Screaming in agony, Trunks reached up to his face and gently prodded the several bloody holes that had been left behind.   
  
Clenching his fists, he tried to focus on Gohan and Pan. Gohan was staring at him in shock. Taking advantage of this momentary lapse, Trunks leapt to his feet and tackled Gohan. This infuriated the older Saiyan, but before he could regain his feet, Trunks scooped a sobbing Pan into his arms and took to the air.  
  
***  
  
'Damn it all!'  
  
It was the best he could do - a lousy cave in the middle of nowhere. Trunks had no idea if he and Pan were safe, but he was too tired to go on. He had been flying for hours. Pan had finally stopped crying, but Trunks knew it would not take much to set her off again. Her father had just tried to kill her, after all.  
  
Trunks sighed and held his shirt up to the wounds on his face. He really wished they would stop bleeding - he was starting to feel a bit dizzy. Trunks noticed that Pan was watching him. Her eyes broke his heart. She had been so innocent just a few hours before, and now here she was, sitting in a damp cave, watching one of her friends mop blood from his face.   
  
Trunks was so infuriated he could hardly breathe. How could something like this happen? What were these Reaver things anyway? Trunks closed his eyes and applied more pressure to the bloody cloth.  
  
'And why, for Dende's sake, was I the only one who could resist that damn things?' he thought. 'Why not dad, or Goku? They wouldn't be cowering in a cave right now; they would be kicking the crap out of whoever sent those fucking parasites,' Trunks took a deep breath. This was not constructive. Questioning life had never gotten him anywhere before, and now was not the time.  
  
"Trunks?" Pan's voice sounded so tiny and frail. Trunks shivered.  
"Yes, Pan?" He asked hesitantly.  
"Are you gonna be ok? You're bleeding a lot."  
"I'll be fine, don't worry. I heal fast." Trunks smiled, doing his best to look sincere.  
"Can I...can I help you?" Pan crawled over to Trunks and took the cloth from his hands. "I'll be careful, I promise. I read books about doctor stuff all the time." Pan then gently placed the cloth against one of Trunks' bloody wounds. It was the one closest to his eyes - he could not get it to stop bleeding.  
  
"Careful Pan...that's probabaly the worst one of all of them."  
"Just hold still..." Trunks was astonished at her tenderness. He could barely get the cloth near that wound without intense pain, but somehow she had found a way past it.  
"There," she said happily, "No more bleeding."  
"What??" Trunks could not beleive it. "How? It's been bleeding for hours!"  
"You just didn't do it right, dummy. Sheesh, I figured you would've inherited SOME of your mom's smarts." Pan laughed and placed the cloth on another of Trunks' circular wounds. He did not know how she was doing it, but one by one, each of his wounds stopped bleeding.  
  
"You just need to put pressure in the right place. These ARE pretty nasty holes, though. That filty worm tried to kill you!"  
"I don't think it was trying to kill me, Pan. It was trying to take over my body - enslave me for its own purposes. I found Piccolo before one of them took over his body..." Pan gasped at this bit of news. Trunks sighed and contined.  
  
"Yes, they got Piccolo, and my parents, and from what I could tell, your whole family as well. Piccolo told me before he succumbed that the parasites were called Reavers, though where they came from I have no idea. He said that we have to hide our ki's...the creatures can sense people who are strong. I guess they feed on power."  
  
Pan had tears in her eyes. Trunks felt horrible for making her cry again.  
"But...but, why?" She stammered, "Why would my dad give in to those things? And Grampa? I mean, YOU beat them - Why couldn't anyone else?"  
  
"That's a really good question, Pan, and I wish I had an answer. My father is a whole lot stronger than me - heck, except for Goten, they're ALL stronger than me. It just makes no sense."  
  
Pan shook her head and continued administering to Trunks' ugly wounds. He really was impressed with her courage. It's not everyday that your entire world crashes down on top of you.  
  
"What're we gonna do, Trunks? We can't stay here forever."  
  
Trunks had just been wondering the same thing. What COULD they do? If they ventured out, those things were sure to find them, and he did not know if he could resist another attack. That thing almost had him today - and to think they might do the same to Pan! The thought of those probes burrowing into Pan's body made his flesh crawl.  
  
"I don't know..." He said shamefully, "You're right, we can't stay here forever, but we can't just up and fly anywhere either. We HAVE to keep our ki's hidden."  
  
"But....are we gonna try to beat these Reaver thingies? Or maybe try to find some help?"  
  
"I don't know if there is anyone left who CAN help, and I know we can't beat those things. They're just too strong. Hell, I could barely handle ONE!"  
  
Trunks knew that this statement would make Pan cry again - he felt like crying. Never had he faced a problem like this before. Sure, he had fought plenty of enemies in his life, but at least then, there was something he could DO about the problem. Now he was helpless. He and Pan were the only ones left, and they were just kids! Trunks hated to admit that; 17 was a proud age for him. That may not have been a kid in his OLD life, but now, being on his own, with seemingly nothing ahead of him, he felt very much like a kid. 


	5. Finally...

"Ugh, what IS this?"  
"Do you really want to know?"  
"Probabaly not..."  
  
Trunks closed his eyes and shoved the orange glob into his mouth, not bothering to chew. It tasted like an old boot - heck it probabaly WAS an old boot. Frowning, he watched as Pan choked down her meal; probabaly the only time this week she would have that luxury. Usually they went with nothing.  
  
'We should throw a party," Trunks thought angrily. He knew it was a bad idea to think like that, but everything was starting to catch up with him. Survival had not been easy, and it was taking its toll on his body. He had been able to count his ribs for months, and his hair was no longer lavender - it was pure white. Stress and starvation; not a good combination.  
  
Trunks knew that it was affecting Pan too. He had done his best to give her most of the food, the water, whatever he could, but there was often nothing to share. What was worse was his failure to protect her. Those damn scars on her face, so like his own, were a testament to that failure. They had only been hiding in that cave a week when those things found them. A WEEK! Trunks had been scared out of his mind when it happened. A gibbering idiot - and it was all his fault, for lighting the damn fire in the middle of the night. What better way to attract enemies? Trunks shuddered; it was not a good memory. Sure, he had eventually located his testicles and saved Pan from the Reaver, but not completely. He had to rip it off her face with all his stregnth, tear away her flesh in one agonizing yank.  
  
Trunks sighed - that had been months ago. How long had it been, exactly? He could not remember. He thought maybe it had been a year - perhaps more. Everything had melted into oblivion and monotony. They had gotten pretty good at avoiding the parasites and the people they controlled - that was simply a matter of laying low and not being stupid. It was staying sane that was giving them both fits. Trunks was pretty sure he was going crazy. He was actually starting to hear voices occaisonally, though he could not understand what they were saying. He did not want to. The thought of losing the last healthy part of his body made Trunks want to cry.  
  
'Well, at least I've avoided doing THAT,' Trunks thought heatedly. He still had a shred of his pride, and so did Pan. They talked to each other very little - nothing to say really - but Trunks could see that she was proud of herself. She could take care of herself, she could find food for them, and she could FIGHT. Damn, could she fight.  
  
Trunks closed his eyes. He really had given up hope that day - he had thought they were goners, but Pan saved both of them. He blinked as he realized that had only been two weeks ago. He had been able to deal with the parasites in the past, but when it came to the people they hosted, Trunks was at a loss. The emotional impact of it had been too much. Seeing his parents that way, Reavers pulsing from their throats, Trunks froze. He thought about tearing the fucking things out of their bodies, he thought about powering up to Super Saiyan and raining down his vengenace, but he did nothing. He just stood there - he had gone completely bug fuck.  
  
That was the first time Pan had ever gone Super Saiyan, and Trunks could only thank Dende for it. He had not thought it was possible to piss off a child that much, but Pan proved him wrong. She blew up nearly everything in sight and scared the hell out of the Reavers. They actually RAN AWAY from her display of power. Trunks was so shocked he almost wet himself. Usually the Reavers would head towards anyone showing off their power and suck it up for themselves.  
  
Naturally the creatures recovered and sent their host bodies after Trunks and Pan again, but by then they had found a new hiding place. ANOTHER new hiding place. Trunks growled in frustration.  
  
"Trunks, I wish you would stop worrying." Pan's quiet voice shook Trunks back to the present.  
  
"Well, what am I supposed to do?" He snapped, "This is hopeless!"  
"No it's not, and you know it! We're still here because we can beat those fucking Reavers!"  
  
Trunks blinked at Pan's use of profanity. She was only, what, eight, nine years old? Trunks realized that he had quit thinking of her as a child a long time ago. Smiling for the first time in months, he walked over to Pan and sat down.  
  
"I've really rubbed off on you, haven't I?" He said to her.  
"What are you talking about?"  
"Come on, I know you didn't know how to cuss before all this happened."  
  
Pan laughed; it made Trunks feel so much better to hear it.  
  
"Well, I did learn a FEW works from you, Trunks, but you should hear my mom when she gets mad!"  
  
"I think you probabaly learned the worst ones from me, you little monster."  
  
Pan just laughed and leaned against him. Trunks sighed - he wasn't going crazy, and he wasn't lonely. He was just a pessimist. He knew Pan was right, they COULD beat the REAVERS; he was going to have to grow some balls. He knew what they had to do - they had to venture out.  
  
The Reavers had taken over the world, and most of the humans had been herded like cattle into slave camps. Trunks and Pan had done their best to avoid those places, but the two they had come across in their journies had sobered they immensely. Trunks figured that someone was controlling the monsters - they did not seem to have intelligence of their own, but he had no idea who was doing it. He also had no idea where the creatures came from. Piccolo had known about them, but he had not had time to share much. That was about the extent of his and Pan's knowledge on the monsters. It was disheartening, to say the least.  
  
"Pan, I think we're gonna have to go into one of those slave camps."  
"What?" Pan sat up straight and stared at Trunks, "Why, for Dende's sake, would we do that?"  
  
"Because, we need answers. We're accomplishing nothing hiding out here."  
"But, they WANT us. We show up at one of those camps, and they'll infest us for sure."  
  
Trunks had thought about this.  
  
"Yeah, they want us, but I think that's only because we are free. We've escaped them for a long time, and they want our power. BUT.." Trunks raised his hand as Pan was about to protest, "I don't think they know WHO we are. If we go into one of those camps, we'll just blend in with the filthy mob."  
  
"I dunno Trunks...can't we lure a few here and rip them out of their hosts? Then we would have people to help us..our friends!"  
  
"I thought about that, but how do we know we can get them out? I got them off of US, but we were never fully infected. Everyone else is totally consumed. Plus, who knows, it might kill them."  
  
Pan's little face wrinkled in thought. Trunks wondered what she was thinking about. A few moments later she smiled and spoke.  
  
"Actually, Trunks, I think you're on to something. It'll be scary, but I think we can pull it off. I mean, we look like shit, not warriors trying to save the earth, so we probabaly won't draw much attention."  
  
"Exactly! We'll have to be careful, though. I'm not going in there unless I know I can get out."  
  
"No kidding."  
  
They sat in silence and pondered this problem. Neither of them had much stregnth left, so blasting their way out was not an option. Plus, if they did that, they would have swarms of parasites trying to suck the life from them.  
  
"Well?" Trunks finally broke the silence, "Any ideas?"  
"Just one..." Pan was frowning.  
"What?" Trunks thought he knew where she was going with this.  
"You remember those people we saw...in that...hole?"  
"Yeah..." Trunks felt his stomach lurch.  
"When we're ready to leave the camp...we can just....well, hide with the dead people, and let them bury us....we're strong enough to climb out.."  
  
Trunks did not like that option, but he could think of nothing better. The camps were surrounded by a containment field, so flying out was impossible. The ONLY way people left was as corpses.  
  
"I guess we'll just have to learn how to play dead..." Trunks said solemly. "But...Pan, if this works, so many people will be saved...we have to try."  
  
Pan nodded and laid against him again. It was going to be a long night, Trunks could tell.  
  
***  
  
OK folks, I NEED reviews! I hate to beg, but I must...I'm starting to lost my motivation on this story, and that would be really bad, especially when I go back to school and get all distracted again. Heck, if I get enough reviews, I might be tempted to draw up a comic about it as well....who knows? The more reviews I get, the better I'll feel about this story, that's for sure! 


	6. Slaves

"Ok geinus, now what?"  
"Chill, I'm working on it..." Trunks stared at the containment bubble surrounding the slave camp. Pan had figured a way to get them OUT of that place, but they had not thought about getting in.  
  
'Well, sheesh...I thought this part would be easy,' Trunks thought. 'Who knew they would turn people AWAY. That guard was a real ass...'  
  
"We don' want none a' you skinny wraiths in here!" The tall man had said to them. "We don't got enough food for the slaves as it is, to be takin' in squatters! Now git!" The guard pointed a nasty looking energy sword at Trunks and Pan, and they were forced to retreat.  
  
"This is rediculous!" Trunks exclaimed, "Why the hell have the Reavers been bothering us so much if they don't even WANT us in their camps?"  
  
"Well, at least it proves that they don't know WHO we are."  
  
"Yeah, that's a little comforting. I wonder what he meant by squatters, though..."  
  
Trunks stopped talking. There was something poking his back, and if he had been a normal human being it probabaly would have hurt. He whirled around in surprise and came face-to-face with the skinniest, dirtiest man he had ever seen. The man frowned and raised his crude spear into Trunks' face.  
  
"Whaddya doin 'ere?" The man growled at them. Trunks noticed that the man had no Reaver, no slave collar, nothing to suggest that he was under anyone's control but his own. Relaxing, Trunks put his hand on the spear and moved it away from his face, despite the efforts of the frail man to keep it there.  
  
"My name is Trunks," he said to the angry man, "And this is my friend Pan. Who're you?" The man just frowned and stared at Pan. She returned his look with an arctic glare. They stared at each other for some moments before the man returned his gaze to Trunks.  
  
"You been tryin' ta get in the camp, eh?"  
  
"Yeah, that's right."  
  
"They din't let ya in...shoulda known that'd happen, if ye's claim ta be true squatters." The man cackled for a moment and then slid his spear back underneath a crude leather strap on his back. A long silence grew between the trio.  
  
"I don' know who you's all is," the dirty man said at last, "but that camp there ain't just fer anyone. Them damn bloodsuckers think it's funny that we be out 'ere starvin to death. I mean sure, it ain't like livin the high life in there, but they's got FOOD at least!"  
  
Trunks understood now. The Reavers only wanted healthy humans working in their camps. It was like a cruel joke for them, seeing everyone else surrounding the camps, begging to get in. He could imagine that it had been an insult to them that he and Pan had avoided the camps - the Reavers did not think they were suffering enough.  
  
It all make Trunks want to rip out his hair. Whether they toiled inside the camps or squatted outside, these poor humans were doomed to a grisly death. Trunks figured most of them preferred working themselves to death over starvation. He could hardly blame them - his own body was wasting away before his very eyes. It was pure torture.  
  
Trunks shook his head and returned to reality.  
  
"Sir," he said, trying to keep his voice steady, "How many people are living out here?"  
  
"Hell if I know, boy. They's jus too many ta count, ifn' ya must know. We do the bes' we can, but it's hard." The man looked at Trunks and Pan, "But you know that, don't cha?"  
  
Pan nodded and stepped forward.  
  
"Yeah mister, we're hungry most of the time, but me and Trunks are a lot stronger than we look. See these scars?" She pointed to the circular marks on her face. "A Reaver tried to get me, but Trunks pulled it off!" The man gasped and leaned closer to her face.  
  
"Reavers? Is that what them things is called? Hey boy, you's got them marks too!"  
  
Trunks nodded and crossed his arms.  
  
"Well, I'll be damned!" The man exclaimed. "I've seen them things attack before, an' I'd bet my ass than those damn scars ya'll got look just like them probe things the creatures 'ave! You two ain't just normal squatters, is ya?"  
  
"No, not really," Trunks said.  
  
"Well, shoot!" The man was beaming now, "I's been a real ass, that's fer sure. You's two can call me Bart ifn' ya want. It ain't my real name, but it's what my buddies call me, and I's real proud a' it!"  
  
Pan giggled and shook Bart's hand. Trunks sighed and did the same.  
  
"It's nice to meet you," Trunks said slowly, trying not to roll his eyes. The only friend they had made in months and he was a complete dimwit - Trunks knew someone was laughing at them right now.  
  
"We really need to get in that camp," Pan said. "We're gonna find out about the Reavers and stop them!"  
  
"Oh are ya? Ain't nobody gets in there 'less their strong, little lady."  
  
"We ARE strong," Trunks said. "We just look like shit, that's all. That's how it is when you miss a few hundred meals."  
  
"well, I ain't got no idears for ya. The way you's two look, I'd think ya'd keel over any minute." Trunks grunted at this. He was weak by Saiyan standards, but hidden ki or not, he could still beat the shit out of every human on the planet.  
  
"Pan," Trunks said, turning away from Bart, "I think we're gonna have to SHOW the guard that we belong in that camp."  
  
"Show him?" Pan was confused.  
  
"Yeah, I say we challenge him to a fight."  
  
Bart gasped. "Are you nutty? That brute'll rip ya'll into tiny pieces! They made 'im a guard cause he's real strong! I don care whatcha say, you can't beat no camp guard!"  
  
"We'll see," Trunks said, smirking much like his father. "Come on Pan, we have work to do."  
  
"You's a fool, boy! Don't take that poor girl wit ya! He'll smash her!"  
Pan smiled and waved to Bart as she and Trunks headed towards the camp.  
  
"It's ok!" She yelled, "I'll beat him up real good, you'll see!"  
  
Bart shook his head and watched the pair head back to the camp.  
  
"They's good as dead," He mumbled. Still shaking his head, Bart turned his back to the camp and headed into the woods.   
  
***  
  
The guard laughed for several minutes before acknowledging Trunks and Pan once again.  
  
"You two want to fight ME?" He said, chuckling. "You must have a death wish! Too bad for you, cause I ain't allowed to kill squatters. They's gotta suffer!" He began laughing again, louder than before.  
  
"Well," Trunks said, crossing his arms, "It looks to me like you're AFRAID to fight us."  
  
"WHAT? Why you little sonofabitch! I'll rip your eyes out!"  
  
Trunks just smiled. He knew a little something about pride, and no self-respecting strong-man would turn down a challenge like that.  
  
"Whaddya say we get on with this then," Trunks said cheerfully. "You can fight either of us or both of us, whichever you want."  
  
The tall man growled. Trunks could almost feel the anger emanating from him. He could beat this guy with his eyes closed - so could Pan.  
  
"I don't care if she IS a little girl!" The guard guestured to Pan, "If she's runnin around with slime like you, she deserves to die!" Trunks' eyes narrowed, and he glanced at Pan. He did not want her to get too mad - no ki in this fight. He touched her shoulder to remind her of that. She just nodded, keeping her eyes on the guard.  
  
Pan made the first move, swiping away the guard's energy sword with her left hand. Protesting, he reached down to grab her, but Trunks' foot made contact with his face before he could get there. Pan followed this up with a punch to the guard's stomach. Gasping for air, the man fell to his knees in shock.  
  
"Who....who ARE you people?" he stammered.  
  
"Just lousy squatters," Trunks spat at him. "Now, how about letting us into the camp, hmm? Or would you care to feel my foot smash into your face again?"  
  
Trunks was enjoying this. He had not gotten to prove his stregnth against a weakling in a long time. Grinning, he nudged the guard with his foot.  
  
"Well? Are you gonna let us in, or what?"  
  
The guard growled and got to his feet. Then, reluctantly, he pressed a series of buttons on the large metal door that was the only entrance to the camp.  
  
As the door slid slowly open, Trunks noticed Pan slip something into her sleeve. He wanted to ask her what she was up to, but that would have to wait.  
  
"When you get inside," The guard said angrily, "Report to the Keeper. He will see what jobs you are suitable for. He will also fit you with collars."  
  
Trunks shuddered. Those damn collars were the one thing he and Pan could not find a way around. He knew it was the major hitch in their whole plan. They had simply decided to wait until they were fitted with them, to see what they were like. Trunks could only hope that the mechanical skills he inherited and learned from his mother would pay off. He could also only pray that the Reaver's had not used his mother to MAKE the collars.  
  
***  
  
The Keeper was an odd-looking man, only about five feet tall with a beard nearly as long, but Trunks was pleased to note that he was a kind man. It was reassuring to find that not every slave was as malicious as the guard. He had feared the collars would have the same effect on the body that the parasites did.  
  
"Here," the Keeper said, handing Trunks and Pan their collars. "Put these on, and make sure not to get them too tight. We've had people strangeled by them, and once it's on, it doesn't come off."  
  
"Never?" Pan asked.  
  
"Nope, never," The Keeper said quietly. "The collars are designed to kill anyone who messes with them."  
  
"How do they do that?" Trunks asked. The Keeper sighed and leaned closer to him.  
  
"I'm really not supposed to be talking to you, you know, but I'm curious about you two. I've never seen such scrawny, starved, mangey squatters coerce the guard into letting them in. I'm actually quite impressed." Trunks grumbled at this. The Keeper adjusted his small glasses and continued. "You see, when someone tampers with their collar, three large prongs insert themselves into the slave's neck, killing them instantly."  
  
Trunks laughed. "Is that all? I was afraid you were going to tell us something scary, little man."  
  
"Don't be foolish! Those prongs are extremely powerful - they can pierce metal!"  
  
'Yeah,' Trunks thought, 'But can they pierce the skin of a Saiyan? I guess Pan and I will have to risk it.' Trunks did not like that idea, but they had little else to go on at that moment.  
  
"You two had better put those on," The Keeper said. "It's almost time for the evening work shift to start, and I've got you both on kitchen duty." Trunks sighed and put the collar up to his neck. It repulsed him to do it, but there was no alternative. He shuddered as the collar snicked in place, sealing it's bond on him. Pan winced as hers did the same.  
  
"Now, get out of here," The Keeper said, "I've helped you WAY too much already. You owe me BIG for putting you on kitchen duty, you should know that."  
  
Trunks and Pan smiled at the old man and headed for the door. As they left, Trunks noticed the old man sigh - he really had helped them out, Trunks realized, possibly at the risk of his own life. Trunks was grateful. They would need all the help they could get.  
  
***   
  
Reviews! AAAACK! Must have...reviews! Come on folks! Do it for me, I know you want to!  
  
-- Stacey G.   
  
PS  
  
Ok, I might actually finish the next chapter today too...I'm not sure. It will most definately be about Pan and Trunks' experiences in that camp. Stay tuned! 


	7. On The Job

Chapter 7 - On the job  
  
***  
  
Potatoes...splat...potatoes...splat...potatoes...splat...  
  
Trunks was starting to wonder if potatoes had taken over the earth instead of Reavers. A brief pause in the food line gave him enough time to wipe the dried potato paste off his ice cream scoop. Trunks looked up the line and shuddered - here they come again; poor hungry wretches...  
  
***  
  
Trunks sighed and sat down on his cot. It had been a really long day, and he was famished. Too bad it was his week to go without rations. Trunks was just glad it was him and not some of the other people in his cabin; they were the type of people the rationing program was designed for. They would starve to death in a day or two, and then Commander Goten would have them dumped in the community grave.  
  
The first day of roll call had left Trunks in complete shock. His best friend Goten, now the property of a vile Reaver, had beaten two sick men to death. It was all Trunks could do to avoid going Super Saiyan right then and there. Pan had missed that, thank Dende. Spilling the soup in the kitchen the night before had very nearly cost Pan her life, but if she had gone Super Saiyan that day like Trunks had wanted to, she most certainly would have died - or worse.   
  
Trunks growled - it was sickening to see Pan being beaten within a proverbial inch of her life. His only miniscule consolation for the whole mess was how long it had taken them to find a weapon that would actually hurt Pan. It took nothing short of an energy whip to even bruise her tough little body, and she was extremely proud of that fact. Trunks no longer had a shirt after he had wrapped up all of her wounds, and they would never give him another one. That was life in a slave camp.  
  
"Trunks, do you KNOW what they put in the meat here?" Pan's tired voice jolted him from his thoughts. He had certainly become much more of a thinker since his world fell apart.  
  
"Oh please, Pan, don't tell me." Trunks begged. "I want to be able to keep my food down when I get my rations back." Pan giggled.  
  
"But, it's really interesting, I promise! You see, they ran out of pigs last week, and the Commander wanted us to make ham, so they made us take this cow stomach and sma-"  
  
"OK, OK, that's enough!" Trunks interrupted. He rolled his eyes - somehow Pan managed to take everything in stride. He knew if it wasn't for her, he would be a complete loon by now.  
  
"Pannie," he said, trying to get her off the topic of tripe, "Do you think maybe tonight, you could TRY not to knock me out of my bunk?"  
  
Pan blushed. She couldn't help it if she fought in her dreams - Trunks should have picked a bunk that was not right above hers.  
  
"Well," she said, "If the stupid bunks weren't so close together, I wouldn't even be able to reach yours!"   
  
Trunks laughed. "I was just teasing you, kiddo," he said. Trunks opened his mouth to speak again, but was cut off as an agonized shriek pierced the cabin. Trunks closed his eyes - he could sense Commander Goten near. Someone must have broken the rules tonight.   
  
"Pan, do you still have that energy sword you stole from the guard?"  
  
"Yeah.." Pan pulled the small weapon handle from her pants, "Why?"  
  
"Because, I'm sick of scooping potatoes day in and day out. It's time I did something productive."  
  
"Trunks, the penalty for sneaking around at night is torture."  
  
His eyes narrowed at this - those bastards would have a hell of a time getting him to scream.  
  
"I'll just take out the night guard. Then I'll act like I'm him for a little while and- "  
  
"That won't work! I know you can beat him, but you'll never pass off as him! You're just as scrawny as ever!"  
  
"No, I'm not! I've gained tons of weight since we got here!"   
Trunks knew Pan did not believe him - he had actually begun losing weight again. The cook seemed to take pleasure in reducing his rations whenever possible. Trunks sighed and continued.  
  
"Fine, if I knock him out, there won't be anyone to notice me. They only have one guard in the camp because of the night bots, and I know I can avoid those things. Hell, when mom had them all over at home, I used to hide from them to spite her."  
  
Trunks noticed a small crease in Pan's brow. He figured it had to do with the reference to his mother. It made them both nervous that the Reavers were using Bulma's inventive mind for their own damnablepurposes. They still were not sure if the slave collars were her design, but Trunks suspected as much.  
  
"Ok Pan," he said. "It's time for me to get going. I'll be careful, I promise." Trunks leaned over and kissed Pan on the forehead. Then, while she was still blinking in surprise over his tenderness, Trunks disappeared into the gloom.  
  
'I'm not gonna be able to sleep tonight...' Pan thought.  
  
*** 


	8. Time For Action

Chapter 8 - Action  
  
Trunks took great pleasure in knocking out the night guard. He really craved a good clean fight, but pummeling the occasional arrogant human would have to sate him until he got everyone back to normal.  
  
'IF I get everyone back,' Trunks thought. He shook his head, it was important to think positively. It was one thing to fail in a sparring match with is father, and yet another entirely to lose against a Reaver.  
  
'I only get one chance,' he thought. Claiming the guard's belt, deathwand, and undershirt for himself, Trunks headed for the shadow of the nearest cabin. The deathwand made him nervous - one clumsy touch and all of his synapses would fuse instantly, but he was going to have to trust his life to what he could scavenge. There was no way to know what would be useful later on.   
  
He also did not know how long the unconscious guard would lay unnoticed, but Trunks hoped that with the mindless bots on patrol, it would take a long time.  
  
Trunks had always been good at hiding, but he never wanted to admit it. Hiding was for weaklings, and he was supposed to be a great warrior, with the potential to be better than his father some day. There was no time to worry about that now. Trunks knew he was playing the deadliest game of hide and seek on Earth, and he could not afford to lose.  
  
The bots spent most of their time in the shadows, but Trunks knew about that trick already. It was their way of "outsmarting" would-be snoopers. He just hoped they did not have heat vision - it was so damn hard to avoid.  
  
There was one just around the corner from Trunks. He could hear the small robot's motor whirring, but he could not tell from that sound what kind of bot he was dealing with. The robot had obvoiusly been designed to be silent, but only to human ears. Trunks smirked - obviously they thought they had rounded up everyone with excellent hearing on this planet.  
  
'Well, it's helping me snoop around and do nothing, that's for sure,' Trunks thought, 'But it's time to pay Commander Goten a visit.'  
  
Trunks stole a look around the corner of the cabin, praying the bot did not have a heat senser. The robot stayed motionless, but Trunks stared at the green telltales on its midsection. If they went red, he was finished. A few moments passed and the lights did nothing. Relieved, Trunks flicked on the silent energy sword, keeping it behind him so the yellow energy would not give him away.  
  
In a blink, the night bot was lying in two sizzling hunks. Trunks had forgotten how fast he could be when his power was compromised. He had been trained to think that power meant speed, stregnth, intelligence, and victory, but Trunks could remember times in his childhood games where power was not an option. Bulma did not approve of energy blasts or flying while in the house. It had been interesting for Trunks, because Bulma's robots could sense ki energy, and Trunks had learned as a child to suppress it. His trump card gone, Trunks' insticts would take over and his senses would heighten. His father had disapproved of such "human" techniques, but Trunks was thankful for his childhood endeavors.  
  
Two more sentry bots, and Trunks was outside of Commander Goten's quarters. This was the dangerous part for Trunks - he had never won a fight against a host. He had only been able to beat the creatures themselves. Goten had been his best friend, and the teenager in charge of the slave camp still looked exactly as he did the day the Reavers came. It was still hard for Trunks to believe that his light-hearted friend now had so much blood on his hands. It was not Goten's fault - he was not in control anymore, but Trunks wondered what Goten would be like if he ever got his mind back. Would he know what he had done, what had happened? Trunks hoped not.  
  
There seemed to be no way into the Commander's quarters except the front door. Trunks did not want to go that way. He might as well announce his presence over the P.A. system. He also knew that the guard would be found eventually, and when that happened, the whole camp would go on alert.  
  
Trunks had no idea why the Commander's quarters had no windows. Perhaps the Reaver did not want to have to look at the camp when it was trying to relax. Whatever the reason, it was not helping Trunks at all. Finally, tired of inaction, Trunks turned on the energy sword and stuck it through the wall of the cabin. It cut through the wood like butter, and it made no noise, but the electric blade grew brighter every moment - a perfect beacon to anyone looking for troublemakers.  
  
Trunks could hear nothing from inside the cabin, but the soft whirring of several bots was heading his way. One more slice and the hole was big enough for Trunks' slight frame to squeeze through. He had to hope that the hole was too high up for the bots to navigate.  
  
Once inside Trunks could see nothing. He stood perfectly still until his eyes adjusted to the dark, hoping that nothing was waiting to ambush him. Eventually Trunks' keen eyesight adjusted to the thick darkness. He noticed that a faint glow was coming from the walls, and an odd smell permeated the room - almost like the smell in his bedroom back home when he would leave wet towels lying around. Still nothing challenged him, and taking a calulated risk, Trunks turned on the energy sword once again. What appeared in the light was the most repulsive sight he had ever laid eyes on. The building was a cabin on the outside, but the inside was completely filled with slimy mucous.  
  
Trunks gagged and blinked back tears of nausea. Now he really hoped Goten would remember nothing of this - it was just too much. He could see the silouetted form of his friend suspended on the other side of the room, surrounded by slime. Trunks crept closer, hoping to find a way to remove Goten of the Reaver before he woke up.   
  
Suddenly, Trunks realized his error. The figure in the mucus was NOT Goten, but merely a camp slave. He whirled around, just in time to feel the shock of a stunner in his side.   
  
*** 


	9. Ravaged

Chapter 9 - Ravaged   
  
Damn they were good - too good. Trunks had never felt pain before. Not until now. He just thought he had. They still had not gotten him to scream, but they were close. A few more hours and they would have him, he knew it.  
  
It was still better than being possesed, but Trunks did not think about that while they were torturing him. Only in the brief moments of rest, which were allotted only so he would not pass out from the pain later on, did he have the chance to think. He was worried about Pan - he thought of her the most. She was safe for now, but he knew she would not stay put forever - she would expose herself if he was gone too long.  
  
Trunks had learned more about the Reavers in the three days of torture than in all the time he had spent fighting them. He blew his cover the moment he took that damn deathwand off the guard. According to his torturers, those weapons were specially designed for each guard, and the theft had triggered a silent alarm. With all their attention on Trunks, it had been fairly easy to feel his suppressed power, sneak up on him, and take him to their command tower, a horrible architectural atrocity he could never have imagined. They wanted him to suffer - it wasn't enough that they would eventually take his body and mind. They wanted the last thing he ever felt to be pain, and they wanted him to know who had caused it.  
  
They told him everything - all about their ruined planet and their attempt many thousands of years ago to find a new place to live. Trunks could almost have felt sorry for them, if they had gone about their quest in a noble way. Instead they had attacked the human race, enslaving them. Only a twist of fate ended their empire. A strange virus afflicted the Reavers, flushing them from their hosts. Most of the creatures were killed by the virus, but a few managed to flee Earth, and fewer still were able to retain their hosts, resistant to the virus. Those that remained were not unaffected by the virus, however - they could no longer breed, so they went into hiding - awaiting the day their brothers would return for them.   
  
The Reavers became a terrifying legend among the people who survived the purging. No one knew what had caused the virus, but everyone remembered the carnage the Reavers had wrought. Many people killed themselves in the aftermath, grieving over the lives their hands had ended. This pleased the remaining creatures to no end. They fed on the pain and suffering of others, it was their life blood.   
  
Time eventually took care of the Reaver legend in most of the human world, and finally, those that had escaped decided it was safe to return. The strange virus had descimated their numbers, but several thousand years of slow breeding without the aid of hosts had made the Reavers stronger than ever. It had been difficult for them to accomplish - most of their children had grown up in sickness and starvation; many hundreds died every decade. In the end, however, the race triumphed, and a stronger, smarter Reaver was created.  
  
It had been difficult for them, they had told Trunks, for the Reavers are of one mind, one community. What one thinks, feels, sees, the others do as well. Trunks thought they were trying to make him feel sorry for them. In response, he spat at the nearest host, Vegeta. Trunks knew that it was not his father. Vegeta may have been in there, somewhere, but the one causing him pain was the creature wrapped around his father's neck.   
  
Trunks had just closed his eyes and accepted the pain, keeping what he could for his own. Pain had been his ally before, but he was so weak, so frail, it was difficult to stand. They had chosen Vegeta because of his stregnth; no mere human could have punished Trunks' body like Vegeta had. Trunks' knew it was almost time for another round. They did not want to give him time to stop feeling pain, even for a second.  
  
Trunks could feel his sanity slowly slipping away. Would he ever be the same? He thought about Pan and the plans they had concocted for the camp. It had all sounded so easy at the time - get in, learn stuff about the Reavers, get out. Well, he had gotten out, alright, and now he was paying for it dearly.  
  
He could hear footsteps clinking down the hallway. Trunks had already tried to break his bonds, but the strange quicksilver metal they had used was too strong for his thin arms. A moment passed, and Vegeta was at his side. He had a strange, shiny instrument in his hands, all spikes and joints, made of the same metal holding Trunks to the operating table.  
  
'Sweet Dende, what now?'   
  
That was Trunks last thought before the pain took over again.  
  
***  
  
It had to have been hours - he was sure of it. Someone had been screaming for who knew how long, and they were still at it.  
  
Trunks blinked, realizing that he was the one screaming. They had finally broken him. Trunks looked up - Vegeta was there, doing something to him, but he could not feel it. He could feel nothing, and yet he was screaming still.  
  
'What is this?' Trunks thought fearfully. He felt like he was floating above his own body, but he could see Vegeta standing over him, a Reaver pulsing from his neck.   
  
It was then that Trunks realized what was happening - they were attaching a new-born Reaver to his own neck. The creature had already pushed Trunks' mind back, making room for its own collective consciousness.   
  
Terrified, Trunks struggled to regain control, but each time he neared the threshold of his consciousness, intense, searing pain was his reward. It continued to get worse as he drifted away from himself.  
  
'Fuck...no...this can't be happening!' Trunks' mind screamed to him in a panic, begging his body to remain with it. There was nothing he could do as his mind was pushed further and further away.  
  
Trunks slowly blinked his eyes twice, a final effort for control his own body. The second time his eyes opened, he saw his father with a huge smirk on his face, so similar to the one he had worn throughout Trunks' childhood. But it was not the same smirk - it belonged to a bloodsucking monster. Then Trunks saw Pan - she was there too, smirking right alongside Vegeta. She had a Reaver around her neck.  
  
'MOTHER FUCKERS!' his mind screamed in agony. When had they taken Pan? Had they tortured her too? It was too much for Trunks, he did not care about the pain anymore. Fuck the pain. The Reavers had gone too far.  
  
Trunks did not notice the sensation returning to his body; he did not notice the Reaver coiled around his own neck, squealing in protest, or the shock on Vegeta and Pan's faces as he broke the quicksilver restraints on the operating table. All he noticed was the slimy, Motherfucking, soon-to-be-dead Reaver attached to Pan.  
  
Trunks grabbed the Reaver, but he did not want to pull it off of Pan - no, that would be too painless for the monster. Instead, Trunks closed his eyes and remembered all the pain he had felt over the last year and a half - all the torture, all the lives lost. This was pure energy to him, and he could feel it welling up deep inside. The creature continued to squeal as Trunks' power grew, but it could not will enough stregnth into Pan to fend him off. Trunks could feel the Reaver's body getting hot, and suddenly, he heard a thousand horrendous screams resonate through his skull. The Reaver community was trying to attack him.  
  
The Reaver was weak - Trunks could tell it was losing it's hold on Pan. He continued feeding his white-hot power into it. The monsters could live off pain and fear, but not when it was their own. One by one each of the creature's tentacles sizzled off, breaking its bond with Pan. She collapsed in a heap, but Trunks did not let go of the creature. It was still alive, and he had every intention of killing it.  
  
The Reavers were still trying to defeat Trunks collectively, but each time a new creature entered its mind into the fight, Trunks' power grew stronger. Suddenly, Trunks knew that EVERY Reaver wanted him dead - they were panicking. He felt the telepathic link of them all, struggling to hurt him - to make him release their brother. Trunks had his chance.  
  
With one final surge of anger and agony, Trunks released all of his bottled-up power. It rushed from him like a river, through the tower, and over the entire planet. The energy coated every Reaver, every one of the monsters, and though they fought him, the power of Trunks' pain was too much. A new virus had besot their race, only this time, it had a brain. Trunks screamed as his power flowed forth - he could see each and every Reaver that shriveled from its hosts' neck and fell to the ground to die. He could not have asked for a sweeter revenge.  
  
Finally, Trunks had had enough - his power was gone, and so was his body, ravaged to the brink. He collapsed, unable to sustain himself any longer. Sighing, Trunks waited for the comforting darkness - it was over. He had done all he could for his loved ones, and he could only pray it had been enough. His eyes, beginning to glaze over and dilate, focused briefly on the motionless form of Pan, free from the parasite, but crumpled to the floor like a rag doll.  
  
'Please...please just let her be alive...' Trunks thought, as oblivion engulfed him.  
  
*** 


	10. Tears at Last

Chapter 10 - Tears At Last  
  
"He'll be fine! Now stand back so I can get him out of this damned thing!"  
"I'll do as I please, woman!"  
  
Bulma sighed and shook her head. It was usually the other way around with Vegeta - he let her worry about their son. This was different, though. They both knew where Trunks had gotten his wounds, and it was painful for Vegeta to see Trunks in such a state.  
  
Vegeta looked at his son. He seemed so frail and helpless, and yet, he had saved them all. He had never been so proud of Trunks, and so ashamed of himself. He remembered everything - they all did.  
  
By now the life-giving fluid had been emptied from the regeneration chamber, and the robots were lifting Trunks' thin form onto a bed. Vegeta still did not believe he would be fine.   
  
Suddenly Vegeta heard small footsteps padding down the hallway; someone must have told Pan that Trunks was coming out of the chamber today. She careened into the room, heading straight for the bed, but Vegeta hooked his arm around her waist before she could get there.  
  
"He-ey!" She protested, "I wanna talk to Trunks!"  
"Hold on," he said, "He's not even awake yet. Besides, it'll take him a few minutes to get re-oriented." Vegeta smiled at Pan, enjoying her surprise at this guesture. He knew what had given Trunks his strength all that time - Pan was truly a wonder.  
  
A few moments later Gohan and Videl came running into the room.  
  
"Sorry about that, Vegeta. She snuck away from us," Gohan said apologetically.  
  
"It's ok," Vegeta said, letting go of Pan's waist. Vegeta sighed as Piccolo, Goku, Goten and Chichi entered the room. It was starting to look like he would not be able to get near his son.   
  
"So, Vegeta, when is Trunks supposed to wake up?" Goten said.  
  
"Soon, hopefully." Vegeta said. Frowning, he noted the large circles under Goten's eyes. He had not been well the last few days - they'd had to make sure Goten was busy to keep him from thinking about the slave camps. They all had to keep busy.  
  
"Well, it's a good thing Videl found Trunks when she did," Goku said, "Otherwise we might have lost him."  
  
Videl blushed at this - she had been in the tower as a lower sentry, and was the first to stagger to her feet after the defeat of the Reavers. She found Trunks lying in a pool of his own blood, barely alive. It had taken all her stregnth to haul him to the tower's regeneration chamber.  
  
"Well, if the Reaver's hadn't taken advantage of Bulma's brilliant mind," Videl said, "There would have been no healing chamber for me to dump him into."  
  
Bulma sighed, yes, they definately used her mind, but at least SOMETHING good had come out of it.   
  
"Ok, everybody," Bulma said, after a short pause, "Trunks is starting to come around, and I want everybody but Pan and Vegeta out of here, now!"  
  
There were no protests as the majority of the group filed out. There would be plenty of time to see Trunks later.  
  
"Mom?" Trunks' first word in over a week was barely more than a croak, but the three remaining in the infirmary heard him perfectly. Bulma was standing over him with tears in her eyes as Vegeta and Pan walked up to the bed.  
  
"It's ok, Trunks, everything's fine now." Bulma said soothingly. Trunks blinked his eyes - where was he? This wasn't home - Capsule Corps had been destroyed...  
  
Then he realized that they were still in the Reavers' tower, but somehow Bulma had managed to fix up the infirmary to feel like home. There were even curtains on the circular window portals.   
  
"Mom, how - " Trunks stopped; there was Pan, staring at him over the edge of his bed, happy as ever.  
  
"C'mere Panny," he said with a smile. Pan leaned over and embraced Trunks - he had never been happier to see someone in his life.  
  
"I thought I'd killed you, Pan -" He said, choking back tears. It was the first time he had cried since childhood. Damn, that had been ages ago...  
  
"I'm fine Trunks, really!" Pan said, surprised by his emotion, "You SAVED me...you saved all of us."  
  
"Yes, son," Vegeta said, leaning over the bed, "You saved everyone - even this proud Saiyan prince." Trunks was shocked at the grief he saw in his father's eyes. It had been a cruel joke to have a father torture his son.  
  
"Dad, listen," Trunks said quietly, "I don't blame you for anything that happened, and I don't want you to think that you failed because you couldn't beat those monsters. I don't really know how I did it..."  
  
Vegeta sighed. Trunks had read his mind - he was blaming himself. It would take time to heal, and he would never truly get over what he had done to Trunks. He was just going to have to move on.  
  
"I'm really proud of you son," Vegeta said honestly, "There was no better man to save us."  
  
Trunks smiled, he could tell that he meant what he said. There was a long pause, as the four of them thought about everything that had happened. Each of them would have demons to fight as they walked the long road to recovery, but at least they had the chance to return to normal.  
  
Pan was the one to finally break the silence.  
  
"So, guys," she said cheerfully, "Do you like Trunks and me's new look? I don't know about the scars, personally, but I think I like being this skinny." She reached down and ran her hand along Trunks' ribs.  
  
"Pan, stop that!" Trunks protested, "It tickles!" Pan laughed and sat down on the bed with a plop.  
  
"Well, I don't care if you do like being skinny, young lady," Bulma said with a smile, "You'll still be on that IV drip every night until it's safe for you to eat real food."  
  
Pan grimaced rubbed the spot on her wrist where the IV went.   
  
Bulma sighed and touched Trunks' scarred face, causing him to flinch.  
  
"Mom, don't..." he said quietly - he was ashamed of the scars. Apparently only he and Pan had them; the penalty for tearing off a Reaver in mid-possession.  
  
"Those scars will never fade," Vegeta said, "But be proud of them - they're a token of your victory."  
  
"And what about my hair?" Trunks said heatedly. Too much had changed - he was not even close to the same person he had been. The way he looked now would be a constant reminder of what had happened. He would eventually gain back the weight he had lost, but every time he looked in a mirror he would see the stress of their exile and the pain of the Reavers.  
  
"I like your hair that way." Pan said, smiling, "It makes you look like an elf or something." Trunks grumbled. He hated it, but he would have to get used to it.  
  
"I don't like it," Vegeta said.   
  
Pan glared at Vegeta for his harsh words, and was about to say something about touchy subjects when Trunks burst out laughing. Pan looked at him quizzically.  
  
"This is great!" Trunks said, wiping tears of joy from his eyes, "I really did miss your brutal honesty, dad. Hell, I missed everything - I missed mom's concern, Goten's adventures with women - " Trunks then looked Pan square in the eyes.  
  
"And I missed your innocence, Pan. It never should have been taken the way it was - no child deserves what you had to go through."  
  
She had tears in her eyes - Trunks touched her hand and continued.  
  
"You should know, I never would have made it without you, Pan. I was on the brink of defeat so many times, and you pulled me back. I owe you everything."  
  
"We all do," Bulma said. Pan opened and closed her mouth trying to say something to the people who had been her mentors all her life - people that were now treating her as an adult.  
  
"Bulma....how old am I? I was seven when the Reavers came." Pan finally managed to say.  
  
"It's been three years."  
  
"Holy shit! I can't beleive it's been that long!"   
  
"Pan! Where did you learn to talk like that?" Bulma glared accusingly at Trunks, who could not help but laugh. She then looked to her husband for help, but he was smiling too.  
  
"You people are impossible!" Bulma cried, totally exasperated.  
  
They all laughed - it was wonderful for all of them to enjoy time together. Even Vegeta allowed his emotions to come out. They spent an hour just enjoying one another's company. Eventually, Bulma had to leave to tend to the other wounded people they had found over the past week, and Vegeta allowed the others to come in and visit Trunks, but he and Pan never left his side.  
  
For Trunks, it had been a fairly good day, but bittersweet as well - many lives had ended when he purged the Reavers. Some had just been too weak to withstand the enormous energy, and several others had killed themselves in their grief. The most disturbing news was that Goten had tried to kill himself earlier that week, before Trunks' survival was certain. Goku, battling his own depressive urges, had reasoned with Goten and talked him out of it.   
Thankfully, as far as Trunks had been told, everyone he cared about was alive. Krillin, Marron, and Eighteen had suffered for three years in a high-security slave camp in a far away desert, but they had been able to identify Trunks' ki when the Reavers were destroyed. It had taken them six days to fly to the tower, gasping with fatigue when then arrived. They were all three still recuperating in their own infirmary room. Bulma promised Trunks that he could visit them in a couple of days, when everyone was feeling better.  
  
Though the tower was a depressing place to be, it was the best place to heal everyone's wounds. Bulma and Chichi had worked hard to make the place more comfortable, but they both knew that Vegeta was itching to blast the whole place to pieces. They would let him, but only when everyone was out - he hated the place enough to do it that very moment, but Bulma had threatened to take away his food for a week if he did, among other things.  
  
Trunks was starting to feel fatigue seeping into his body when Vegeta finally ordered everyone out of the room. Trunks waved good night to all of his friends, somewhat sad that he was too tired to spend the whole night with them. Pan was already curled up next to him, sound asleep. Vegeta shook his head and gently lifted the girl into his arms. Then, with a nod to his son, he left the room. Trunks smiled as he watched the door slide silently shut behind his father, then, with a sigh, he fell asleep, content for the first time in three years.   
  
*** 


	11. Epilogue

Epilogue  
  
***  
  
Eventually the people of Earth rebuilt their ravaged cities, homes, and lives, but nothing would ever be the same. Not a soul on Earth had escaped unscathed - the memories of those that survived the slave camps and those that squatted outside of them would forever burn with images of their dying loved ones and their own torture. Those that were possessed by the Reavers would forever live with guilt - the feeling that they had betrayed their people. They were innocent, of course, but the feeling would never lessen.  
  
Goku, Chichi, Piccolo, Vegeta, Goten, Videl, and Gohan were among the thousands struggling with this guilt. They rememebered every person their hands helped to kill, and it would be many years before any of them would be able to forgive themselves. Bulma, though possesed by the Reavers, was never forced to kill anyone, so her recovery was swift. She became a pillar the first few months for everyone else to lean upon. Pan, of course, recovered quickly, but she was brutally aware of the changes that had developed in her because of everything. Her childhood had been obliterated, leaving behind nothing but the charred ashes of a forgotten innocence. Never would Pan look at the world or its people the same way again.  
  
Trunks' recovery was tragically slow. His body had been completely ravaged by starvation and the energy blast that had saved the planet. He had to learn to walk all over again, and it took him six months of intensive therapy to accomplish the feat. By then he and his parents had moved into a rebuilt Capsule Corps, and much of the world was starting to get back to some semblance of normalcy. Until that first step, he had spent his days confined to a wheelchair - it had been unbearable. Trunks was persistent, however - through sheer will and determination, as well as the support of his friends and family, Trunks managed to regain his lost stregnth and vitality. And Pan was right there with him the whole time, just as she had been before. 


End file.
